Macabre
by Lolarosa
Summary: Twilight; when the two worlds of good and evil began to co-mingle in the glowing hues of the ever fading sun. The onyx tendrils of night slowly fill Edward's soul. Black of night, crimson blood, light of day; what will be his decision? Cannon darkward
1. Respit de la Mort

_**A/N Disclaimer; This story contains graphic acts of violence as well as the act of feeding. It is not meant for the faint of heart or those under the age of 18. **_

_I would like to take this time to thank my pre-beta Eyes_of_Topaz, and my UFBE Changed_by_Edward. Thank you for telling me that I am good at sick and twisted and giving me the ability to share this with you. You both rock my socks off!!_

_Domination Station has not been thrown by the way side, it was just on hold for a while. I had to get the angst out of my head. You will be happy to hear that I am working on the next chapter now and I hope to have it out within the next two weeks. Thank you again for all of your patience and reviews. _

The constant burn scorching my throat had yet to fade. Nearly a decade had passed since my change and the need had yet to subside. Neither Carlisle nor Esme had ever suffered as much as I had and I could not figure out why. Their constant reassurances and love only caused me to loathe myself more for my inadequacies. With each day that passed, my resentment grew, until one day I had enough. I had to get away. I needed to be on my own. I needed to feed my hunger of the unknown, quench my overwhelming thirst for fresh human blood.

So I left. I left in search of a new life. A life where I could stop fighting the monster that I had become.

After months of running and putting hundreds of miles between me and the Cullens, I began to prey on humans, yet every time I would attempt a kill their thoughts would invade my mind. The second my teeth grazed the tender, warm flesh of their necks, my victims would scream for mercy as their histories began to flash before my eyes. Frozen in a trance, I could do nothing but watch, as their lives hung precariously in the balance of my grasp. The increase of blood flow beneath my lips would bring my attention back to my task at hand, as the steady beat of their heart began to hypnotize me.

Tha-thump, tha-thump.

Flashes of families and loved ones would begin assaulting my conscience as the sharp edges of my teeth would niche the fragile flesh, releasing the sweet nectar within. My tongue flat against their skin, I would allow myself the tiniest of tastes, teasing my senses. Then, just as quickly as I had appeared, I would go. I would run and hide in the shadows, wanting to beg for forgiveness and mercy, yet knowing I had no soul to redeem.

As I sat there, shrouded in darkness, horrific scenes began to flash before my eyes. Such horrific acts of inhumanity that my stone skin began to crawl and a low growl rumbled within my chest. Small chunks of brick scattered about my feet as I tried to force these images from my mind physically I did not choose to hear their thoughts, to have their actions burned into my memory, but that did not stop them. They still invaded my brain like some infectious disease eating away at my last remaining sliver of humanity. I could not decipher if these were memories or fantasies, but each one seemed infinitely worse than the last. I could not bear the horror anymore; I had to make it stop.

The fallen brick turned to dust under my shoes as I began scanning the dark alley, my eyes easily focusing on every particle within each darkened corner until they came to rest on the source of my terror. His rag-clothed back facing me as his quivering body rested against a mold-covered wall. He did not notice my presence as he continued to live in his fantasy world. As I stepped closer, his stench and sweat filled my nostrils, lingering on the back of my tongue before I could stop any unnecessary air intake. His dark, greasy hair lay plastered to his saggy, weathered skin as the yellow of his teeth shown in the dimly lit street. The soft scrape of skin against cloth brought my attention to his lap. He thought of a young boy playing in the streets; something about the boy's laughter aroused him more. His movements quickened as images of a broken body lying crumbled against wet soil sent pure rage coursing through my bones. Within seconds, my hands were on either side of his head, exposing his filthy neck before his mind could replay his actions with the cold body. My teeth sank quickly into his dirt-crusted neck as the warm liquid of his life began coating my throat. His thoughts showed me no remorse or grief for the innocent lives that he stole; instead, he was saddened that he would no longer receive satisfaction at their torture. The sharp snap of bones and flesh ended the assault against my conscience as the weight of his lifeless body rested against the cold cobbles. This man, no, this waste of existence, would not be missed from society.

I stood silently, fists clenched against my sides as I waited for the guilt to overtake me. Yet, I could not bring myself to feel remorseful for taking this man out of the world. I did not berate myself for being a monster, a coward; instead, I had removed a monster from society. Had I finally found a solution for my need? I could consume the blood of murderers and other foul deviants to avenge the blood spilled on their hands.

My body continued to quiver with rage as I stared down at the lifeless heap curled into the fetal position at my feet. I knew that I had to clean up any evidence, but I could not bring myself to give this man the dignity of even an informal burial. Thankful that breath was not a necessity, I hoisted the body off the ground and quickly ran deep into the woods.

The noises of bone against damp foliage echoed throughout the quiet forest. Scavengers would smell him and then they could slowly peel his flesh from his bones as nature took its course on any other remnants. No one would miss this man, or would they? What if he had a family that did not know of his evil secrets? Who was I to hold judgment against this human? How could I, a being without a soul, think that I was in any place to punish any man for his crimes?

I could feel the damp leaves beneath my knees as the images of his thoughts caused me to sink to the earthen floor. He took the lives of children; he prayed on them and used them to his advantage. He had no concern for their pain or the pain of their families, his only concern was his own sick, demented need. They were too naive and weak to fight back. Most of them did not realize what was occurring until it was too late.

My fingers gripped tightly into my hair as I attempted to pull the images from my brain. I did not want to see their faces, or hear his amusement at their cries. He deserved what he got. He deserved worse than the ending that I gave him. For the crimes he had committed, the death that was dealt to him at my hands was merciful.

The leaves crunched under my feet as I stood to make my way back towards town. I needed to distance myself from the body, get his wicked thoughts out of my head. Focusing on the noises around me I continued to walk, drinking in the feel of the warm sun against my stone skin, I avoided returning to town, choosing instead to isolate myself once again. As the clouds began to dull and the clear blue began adding oranges and reds, I followed the scent back toward civilization.

The high-pitched squeal of children playing replaced the screams echoing in my skull. I sat in the branches of a nearby tree and watched the children play a game of ball, laughing, smiling, living. In that moment, I had found my resolve. That man was no longer able to hurt anyone. His blood still warmed me as the slow ache began to build again in my throat. Not only was I able to calm the burning flames of my thirst, but I was also able to fill my yearning need for a purpose, a place. No longer was I hiding in Carlisle's shadow, waiting for the day when I would let him down.

I had finally emerged on my own.

With my newfound resolve, I continued to watch the children play as the last rays of sunlight began to fade into the trees.

Twilight was upon us.

One of the deadliest times of day.

The two worlds of good and evil began to co-mingle at this hour. The light and purity of youth, pleading not to be locked in the safe confines of their homes, as the dark, seedy walkers of the night began to emerge from their shadows, sneering as they targeted their latest prey, anxiously awaiting for their chance to pounce.

The conflicting thoughts filled my head as I began to filter the good from the evil. I was slowly able to cut off the pure, innocent thoughts as I began to concentrate and distinguish the minds of my prey.

_A/N So, what did you think? I am planning this story to have three chapters I would like to post them at two week intervals, I will do my best to keep to that schedule. _

_I am also working on a new blog site with my fellow stalkers._

**http://talesfromthetreehouse-twilight(dot)blogspot(dot)com/?zx=3e4781f77abc3d46 **

_We are still in the process of putting everything together, but please come join the fun._

_Please take the time to review and let me know what you thought, there is NEVER a stupid review. I am happy to receive, read, and reply to each one. _


	2. Ars Moriendi

**A/N Thank you Jules, for everything. Tami and Militza, thank you for being my friends.**

**I do not own Twilight or its characters, I am just a poor redneck who still owns a pair of bunny ears. I simply enjoy exploring Edward's darker side. **

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed into the stillness of the night as I tossed the last body onto the growing pile, the freshly lit match quickly caught the kindling beneath. Their tortured remains were too damaged for me to leave to the scavengers. Though I didn't care for my existence, nor did I wish for the Volturi to be the ones to choose the means to my end.

I still had more work to do; I had cleaned this village of as much filth as I could. Due to a drastically increasing number of prey, I was never able to stay in one place longer than a month. Though I was preying mainly on filth, not all degenerates were so easily missed. Some had power, some had wealth; their stature gave them no favor in my eyes, but to humans they still held importance, and so I would be forced to leave.

At first I carried with me the few belongings that I was attached to, a journal for my thoughts, a picture of Carlisle for guidance and a locket of my mother's. All that remained of these items was the locket. I continued to travel alone and light. The rags that I wore had become grimy and torn, giving me the needed anonymity to continue my quest. No one gave the man wearing rags, covered in filth with no shoes on his feet a second glance. No longer would women attempt to meet my gaze and see the crimson eyes returning their glare. No longer did I have a reason to erase their memories.

My last meal struggled greatly, clinging to my clothes, tearing the weakening seams, leaving the fabric hanging from my limbs. I would have to gather more clothes, as I could not risk the sunlight reflecting off my skin. Even though layers of grim and dirt caked against my stone body, the tiniest sliver of sunlight still illuminated my skin as the rays reflected into tiny beams of light. This could cause an unwanted distraction and I did not desire to kill innocence, only protect it.

Pungent smells filled the air, as thick black smoke rose into the evening sky. I quietly covered the ashes with rocks and began my hunt once again.

As I ran through the forest I became one with my surroundings.

Though the light had begun to fade from the sky, my eyes were able to focus on every minute detail of the forest. My senses were alert, being far more defined than any mere human. I was able to taste the trees and hear the whispers of the wind upon the leaves. I closed my eyes and ran, feeling my way through the night.

By morning I was able to find my next camp and by midday I was, once again, on the prowl.

It had been 156 days since I left Carlisle's side, and 45 acts later I was still thirsty for vengeance. With every life I justified taking, my body called for more. The more blood I consumed, the faster the burn returned to my throat. I constantly fought to control my urge to bite and consume without provocation. Every beat of a human heart seemed to call my name and it became increasingly hard to be around this delicious orchestra of smells and sounds. But I had to continue, I had to hunt out those that I was seeking.

Just as I could not hide in the daylight, neither could my prey. They would come out in the day and put on their masks of normalcy and surround themselves with lies. They would weave their webs of deception and wait for their victims to tangle themselves. Little did they know that I was using their own traps to ensnare them.

No longer did I simply deal vengeance and seek revenge, my killings had slowly morphed into an intricate dance, the steps meticulous and carefully calculated. I would lead my partner into their own demise and then punish them with their own crimes. The more violent their memories, the more violent my retribution.

I was constantly pulling from my pool of memories for ways to torture my victims until they finally pleaded for death, and then I would deny them the one thing that would set them free. For some, I had even let the change begin, feeling their pain as the burn set into their bones and began consuming their blood. Just as their conscience mind began to dull their pain, I would complete my task and set on to my next mission. Each time I was consoled by the faces that I saw in their minds. Faces of their victims, cries for their mercy. I would justify my acts by their sorrow and their suffering. I was the judge, jury and executioner.

The sweet scent of fresh blood wafted to my nose and brought me out of my inner revelry as I noticed I was standing in the middle of a market. The calls of merchants selling their wares surrounded me as I sought out the source of this unique and distinct scent. The roaring thoughts echoing within my head caused the act of finding the source nearly impossible.

Closing my eyes, I was able to tune out the thoughts and shouts, and then I opened my eyes. There at the edge of the market, stood a beauty.

Her hair was brown and long. Her clothes signified her rank in society, as well as the large wicker basket braced firmly against her full hip. I watched as the movements of her body caused the flimsy material to accentuate every curve.

Her steps held purpose as she strode out of the square.

Keeping distance between us, I followed her scent and I was mesmerized by her dance. The movement of her hips dredged up distant memories, memories of watching, of wanting. Her pace never faltered and what little attention I was paying to her thoughts never once triggered her knowledge of my presence. She was as lost to the world as I was, her mind drifting to thoughts of deeds yet done.

Memories of moments continued filling my mind, the feeling of the soft skin hidden beneath all those alluring layers of fabric. The smell of arousal and sounds of passion, as two people fought to gain control of the moment.

My hands ached to touch her, to feel her movements beneath my palm, to taste her sweet nectar upon my tongue.

We had reached the outskirts of town and I quickly skimmed the area to see if anyone would notice my intentions.

Just as my hand clasped tightly upon her waist, her thoughts drifted quickly to memories of the night before. She recalled the touch full of lust, remembered hearing the heavy pants of breath, and anticipated the pleasures that would follow. The pounding of her own heart called to me like a lonely lover, the tempo increasing as she turned and registered my identity. A slight gasp escaped her lips as the contents of her basket scattered around our feet.

My eyes focused on the red of her lips as her breath came in short gasps, causing her scent to fill my nostrils. Images of hands and bodies tangled in a mass of disarray caused my body to react in ways unfamiliar to me. I longed to touch her skin as I followed one memory and traced my finger along her evident collar bone. My fingers lingered on the pulse line of her neck as I watched the steady rhythm of her heart.

The skin of her neck was so tender and thin that I could see the flow of blood rushing so close beneath the surface. The sweet scent of her blood, laced with the scent of her arousal, caused a tightening within the pit of my stomach as I pulled her rigid body against my own.

Her thoughts drifted to the feel of my cold body against her skin, yet lingered on the beauty of my unique eyes.

Memories of her lover were lost and replaced with images of myself. These images once again blurred with the memories of skin against skin as two bodies joined and became one, words forgotten as sounds of passion filled the air.

My cool lips grazed her neck as I felt the blood rush past. My tongue lightly brushed against her warm flesh as my hand wandered down the back of her dress.

The feeling of arousal filled my mind and invaded my senses as the memories reached their climax and the two bodies collapsed against each other in utter exhaustion. My need to taste her blood increased as her body pressed further against my own, her breath warming the skin of my neck as her mouth pressed against me. My lips pressed against her skin as my teeth lightly grazed her flesh. The razor sharp edges niched her skin, intensifying her scent and filling my nostrils. I felt warmth hit my tongue as the memories echoed through my mind. There was a flash of metal and a cry of pain as I watched a man mangle her lovely body while she pleaded for his mercy. His ring of his laughter pierced my ears as I released the body to which I was clinging. Staring at her form, my eyes adjusted to see that she was still in one piece and noticed her hair was longer and a shade darker than the woman's whose body lay bloodied on some foreign floor.

Horror crossed her face as her hand flew to her neck and she turned to run. What had I just witnessed?

I stood staring at her retreating form when thoughts once again filled my head. The same images as before, this time replaced with me as the victim.

He was not hard to find, being an uncreative halfwit who lived through the stories of others.

He was able to blend in easily, being of common stock and looks. No one would have guessed the sick and twisted thoughts that ran through his mind. I made an easy meal out of him, deciding not to dance as his thoughts were becoming too much to decipher.

I would have to protect myself from this distraction. I could not be caught up in the emotion of arousal and distracted from my task. Instead, this moment had made these acts sickening, forever connected with this sin. I would never be able to want a physical connection with another without thinking of this moment first.

My days continued to fold onto themselves as one dawn quickly faded into another sunset. The number of times that I witnessed the sun wash the Earth with glow blurred and mixed with the number of victims I had claimed. Neither number held importance for me anymore; now my focus was on the looks that were burned into my mind.

With each victory I not only took great satisfaction, but I was also able to gather better means of torture. I was able to use the memories of my prior night's conquest to help make the next degenerate suffer that much more. One man showed me how to drive a man crazy with nothing other than drops of water. Yet another had a great fascination to pain and observed the human body's reactions to different catalysts.

No longer did I allow myself to mingle with humans, instead I chose to converse with the shadows as I sat in vigil for the impending evening. I had no reason to converse as I was able to gather every piece of information that I needed straight from the source. I no longer saw a reason to explain myself to my prey, as the message that I was delivering spoke a different language.

First I would court my partner, cast him distant glances to see if he was watching my advances. Many times I was able to catch my prey off guard as their meager senses were nothing compared to my stealth-like abilities. Then I would toy with them like a cat batting at the frightened mouse with his paw, tail whipping against his haunches as a claw sliced through the tiny creature's flesh.

None of them had a chance.

If they had half of their wits about them, I was still smarter. Their speed was nothing compared to my agility, and even the degenerates of society were still unable to resist any offer that I made.

All of them would beg for my mercy, many of them soiling themselves in the process. As their cries increased, my need to hear them beg rose. I would watch them, shaking with fear, as realization passed across their faces and some of them quieted. This was the point when they would faint, pass out and try to run from the pain. This was when I would be patient, I would prepare my means of pain and wait for them to regain composure before I continued. I wanted them to feel everything that I was doing to them. None of them deserved to die easily or suffer quietly. I wanted their screams to drown out the memories of their victims.

With each hunt, I wanted more. The unquenchable thirst returned with increased fervor after every kill. My bones began to vibrate with my need as the raging inferno continued to scorch my soul.

Day blurred with night as weeks faded into months. My ability and desire to track my time faded as the unyielding thirst overtook my senses. My only record was becoming the feeling of bliss as the warm liquid doused the fires raging within my body. The sight of skin melting off the soulless bodies of my victims collected in a dark corner of my mind. Then, even those images began to blur, morphing together in a dance so hypnotizing it overtook my soul.

No longer was I able to discern between the horrendous acts and thoughts of my prey and my own conscience decisions. My precarious hold on reality snapped as screams and blood swirled steadily in my head.

Not only had the deep crimson of their blood lingered in the deathly glare of my eyes, strains of red began invading my vision. Slow tendrils of color creeped upon everything I viewed, as my world began resembling my obsession.

No longer was I able to see the of colors of this world and let their beauty and innocence anchor me to my reality, instead the harsh reds and haunting blacks overtook me, pulling me down to the deepest of despairs.

I had become the monster that mothers warned their children about, the nameless face that haunts from the deepest recesses of your soul.

With a forgotten soul and an empty heart, I clung to my purpose and melted deeper into the growing darkness. With waning strength, I gave in to the evil that was screaming violently to escape. I allowed the demon to rip free of my chest and use my body as a vessel to roam the earth.

**A/N Reviews help to keep nightmares away, they also tend to bring Darkward out to play. **

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	3. Memento Mori

4

**A/N I do not own Twilight, SM does. I just filled in the big black hole.**

"Remember, you will die"

My existence became a series of short memories strung together by blood and need as I fell deeper under the control of the demon that tortured my soul. I continued to retreat further into my mind, the dark vermilion pooling around me.

My weak grasp of reality focused solely on the faces of my victims. The details of their existence and the hunt for their capture eluded me, but the way their faces contorted in fear as their blood coated my throat would forever remain burned into my memory.

I continued moving, never staying in one spot longer than the time it took to quench my thirst. Yet no matter how much blood I spilled or how many corpses lay crippled and drained in my wake; the burning need only intensified. The fire began to spread from my throat, slowly igniting my flesh until every cell in my body called for blood and vengeance.

Only once did I come across another of my kind, like two ghosts in the night we drifted past one another not exchanging a word or a second glance. As we passed I noticed the silence, I could hear the gravel crunch beneath our feet and the slight breeze in our wake, but nothing else. The whisper of death our only shadow.

Coherent thoughts began creeping into my consciousness as the sweet fragrance of nectar wafted into my nose, igniting the inferno, arousing the monster and ending all thoughts other than my need to feed.

Someone was coming.

Suddenly the silence was broken as I heard the man's mind roar to life within my head. He was a simple farmer returning home from the market. After hearing the thoughts of so many, I had come to realize that every human had things to hide. Every mind I had touched kept images buried deep within it's subconscious. Dark thoughts, quarantined to keep from contaminating the soul; held at bay in hopes of never being exposed.

This man was no different.

Within the breadth of a second, the man was pressed against his cart as the wood moaned in protest from the weight of our bodies.

"What...what do you want?" His words pinched as his heart thundered inside his chest, a slight sheen of sweat quickly covering his brow. A low growl rumbled from my chest as I stared at his quivering form. Faces of loved ones and fond memories filled our minds. The overwhelming joy and love causing me to stagger as I attempted to regain control of my intentions without distraction.

"Please, I have no money and these crops are all that I have to give to my family." The hammering of his heart sent blood coursing through his body as the darkness overtook my being.

His thoughts suddenly shifted. He began begging forgiveness for his sins as he knew he was being punished. I was God's retribution for his evil deeds. I could hear the irregularities in his heart as panic overtook him, causing him to lose control over his own body.

The cart creaked as boards gave way, crashing our bodies against the earthen ground. The smell of blood intensified as searing pain shot through the man's conscious thoughts, a piece of aged wood slicing easily through his flesh, piercing his lung. A simple peace settled over the man's features as his life spilled from his torso, the liquid turning his rags a deep burgundy as his memory soaked into the fabric..

Upon instinct my mouth rested against the open wound as I leisurely lapped the juices of his soul. My tongue slowly caressing the area as I let the flow roll down my throat, easing the flames coursing throughout my body.

In the last moments of his life, this man acknowledged the guilt of brutally beating a man with his bare hands. The visual of bloodied hands as a lifeless corpse was pushed into raging rapids played before my eyes. Just as my fingers grasped mercifully around his neck, I was assaulted by the vision of graves. Four freshly covered graves and the overwhelming grief of loss. The words he spoke to those graves brought me to my knees; _It is done, your murderer has paid for his sins and your souls can rest in peace._

The sound of his beating heart stopped with the end of that sentence.

My body flew off his remains as my mind reeled with this new knowledge.

This man that I had just _murdered_, only took another's life in _retribution_ for his loved ones.

The blood-filled existence that I had been living for so long slowly started to waver. Logic began creeping into my mind, the knowledge of my deeds nearly crippling me.

I had sought retribution and purpose, instead creating an existence devoid of any emotion. The monster that I had fought to control and keep at bay for so long had taken over, killing those that need not be killed. My eyes once again fell to the lifeless corpse, frozen in a moment of clarity. His face showed no sign of fear or remorse, only sadness, but for what I was unsure. Retracing the thoughts he had given to me, I focused on an early memory. Thoughts of a family gathered around the table as dinner was being served. The love in each of their eyes, slowly warming the chill that had long ago settled within my empty soul. I counted five pairs of eyes staring back into my own.

Five pairs, four graves.

Enveloping his cold body within my stone arms I began to retrace his steps. His journey took me far into the woods. He had kept large distances between his world and any others, as if he had been trying to protect his family from the evil that lurked within it's shadows. Little did he know that shadows knew no boundaries. Nothing was able to stop the darkness from creeping in, it sought out the cracks and crevices, silently slithering in and overtaking any world. One could be shrouded in blackness before it's presence could even be noticed, and once you were within it's grasp, all hope was gone.

The same shadows that hunted this man and his family lived within me, my hope for redemption long forsaken as the monster that I am was born. The date of its birth I could not say, as my memories existed in broken pieces. The only common factor was the rage and the need that constantly pushed me for more. The burn still throbbed through every inch of my body, causing my limbs to shake as I fought to keep myself under control.

Though the body in my arms had grown cold, the faint scent of his essence still called to me, begging me to seek it out and make it my own. As the crimson began to invade my senses, the image of the graves and the eyes of his remaining child pushed me to maintain control. My body began to revolt against my resolve, making each step feel as if iron shoes adorned each of my feet.

The monster raged, demanding it not be ignored, and I felt the sharp pain as it's claws began shredding my mind.

The vegetation surrounding the path began to thin as a clearing came into sight. The raging monster momentarily quieted as the scent of fresh flowing blood seduced him. Like a moth drawn to the flame, I silently stalked toward the aged wooden shack.

Dirt shifted as the tall weeds gave way to the weight of the body as it fell from my grasp; the sound startling the occupant. The small red door flew open, exposing a woman with fiery red hair and ragged clothes. There were smudges on her face and cloth wrapped around her feet as her eyes focused on the heap beside me.

A small gasp escaped from her lips as her hand moved slowly to her cheek, feeling the moisture trace a path against her skin. Her heart rate increased as she took in my bloodied clothes and disheveled appearance. She knew the moment she saw me that I was the one who had done this to her father. The moment my crimson eyes came into her sight, she began to come to terms with her own death.

She was unafraid of what I would do to her, accepting that she would once again be together with her family. Her lack of fear sent rage coursing through me. _How c__an__ such a feeble creature not be terrified and begging for my mercy__?_

In a moment, I was inches from her warm body, tiny wisps of warm air caressing my stone skin as she awaited her fate. The steady beat of her heart hypnotized me as the pity in her thoughts began to anchor me to reality.

_"__Dear God, please have mercy on this man's soul as he takes the life from others. Let him not suffer for his sin, instead may he find peace and redemption for his decisions.__"_

My movements stilled as her thoughts broke past my resolve, causing the monster to falter. In that moment, my eyes locked onto hers and somewhere, locked deep within the recesses of my mind, a memory flared to life. A memory of those same jade eyes as they looked upon me with a world full of emotion. Her humanity shown through those eyes, the deep green filled with love and compassion for those who did not deserve it.

Just as my mother had seen the man behind the topaz of Carlisle's eyes, this woman saw something hidden deep within the crimson of my own. As I struggled with these thoughts, walking through the mossy forest of her soul, she forgave me. She abolished me of my sins and prayed for my soul. She prayed for the scarlet pain that she saw overtaking me, my eyes evidence of my wordly struggles and my unyielding guilt.

The magnitude of her thoughts brought me to my knees and I felt the damp earth through the tattered remains of my pants.

I fought to maintain control of my resolve as the monster lunged against the memory of my mother. Searing pain ripped through my skull as I worked to banish the demon.

The feel of warm flesh against my cheek nearly caused the demon to break free as I struggled to regain control of my thoughts.

Looking up from my penance, I again met the eyes of my past.

No longer would I watch my actions as if from another's body. No longer would the demon dictate and control my need, my hunger.

With the last vestiges of my strength, I attempted to banish the demon into the depths of my mind. The struggle was unbalanced and I quickly felt the monster overpowering my senses. The proximity of the girl and the increasing beat of her heart empowered the demon and lured him towards his prey. Unable to control my movements, my hand grasped the girl's arm firmly as a small gasp escaped her lips. Her mind continued to pray for my soul, as her emerald eyes pleaded for her own.

My eyes followed the path of a lone tear as it ran over the tanned skin of her cheek. The purity of her thoughts gave me the strength to break my grasp on her arm and flee into the neighboring woods. My unnecessary breaths came short and fast, fanning the flames scorching my throat.

Engulfed in the serenity of the woods, I again worked to contain the monster roaring in my ears. My need to destroy it was overpowered only by the knowledge that to do so would destroy me. I could not destroy myself, but could destroy what I had become, a soulless monster; a creature who lacked the self control to maintain an ounce of dignity, forever condemned to burn in the pits of hell.

**A/N Thank you Jules, Kate, Tami, Militza, and Lilly, all of you rock my socks off.**

**REVIEW!! That is all please carry on.**


	4. Metanoia

**A/N SMeyer owns all things Twilight, I just get to play in her world. Thank you to my darlings, you all know who you are and what you mean to me. **

All sense of time eluded me as I sat shrouded in darkness amongst the trees, the battle raging on within my head. Though I had managed to loosen its grip against my thoughts, the monster still lurked in the shadows, refusing to be shut out and silenced.

Perched upon the fallen leaves with my head in my hands, I fought to control the evil still churning within me. My hands fisted into my hair as a growl erupted from my chest.

"I will not let you control me!"

Lifeless bodies with empty eyes clouded my vision, as the final pleas of my victims roared within my ears. The monster began attacking my conscience, ripping holes into my fragile hold on reality. The voices intensified as moments I had not recalled began to resurface. Faces I had originally thought to be victims of the attackers became victims of mine. I was able to see my reflection in their eyes as I moved to sink my teeth into their skin.

The burn intensified as my body remembered the feel of their thick, warm blood coating my throat as I drained their lives. I could still hear the breaking of nails as many of them dug uselessly into my stone skin in a weak attempt to escape my grasp.

Horror raked through me as I recalled the sense of excitement I felt as they fought. The grin that would grace my lips as their pleas became laced with tears and their bodies began to reek of fear. I had enjoyed their pain, revealed in their desperation.

I wanted to be sick, wanted to purge the hatred and blood from my system. But like many other things that were denied to me by this existence, so was the ability to give back that which was already taken. Their blood and fear would forever be a part of me, coexisting with the monster that captured them.

Using this knowledge, I began to erect a cage to hold the monster, a cage made of the victims that I stole. Their blood and their memories would forever serve as a barrier, a constant reminder of what I was capable of. A reminder of my need to control my thirst; to protect others from myself.

The sound of a twig snapping in the distance brought my head up as my body instinctively took the crouching position. Though I may have been able to contain the monster, my body still had to relearn its reflexes.

The sweet aroma of warm, fresh blood filled my senses as I saw the shadow approach. The sweet bouquet acted as a flint igniting the fire within me as venom pooled against my tongue. My need to feed overpowered the bitterness swirling within the nectar as my feet carried me toward its source. The flames grew exponentially as I neared the mass laying against the damp earthen floor.

In a clearing, amongst the wildflowers laid a freshly slain buck. His eyes frozen in supplement to the gods as his bounty lay bare for the offering. A slow trail of crimson ran down from the arrow buried deep within his shank, gold feathers gleaming in the sunlight. Without removing the instrument from the carcass I quickly sank my teeth into its neck and drank greedily. A sense of hope filling me as the warm fluid coated my soul.

Fully satisfied, I disposed of the empty corpse and sat in the warm sun exposed by the clearing. Tiny bits of light refracted against my skin as the heat began to radiate within my body.

The soft, steady beat of an approaching heart caused my mind to start searching out the owner. Peaceful thoughts of hope and absolution met me as her eyes fell upon the man sitting in the meadow.

A deep sense of regret and longing filled my soul as I was assaulted by her forgiveness and pity. Had these qualities come from anyone else, I would have been angry. I would have sought out retribution for their pity, denied them guilt for my own actions.

How could I possibly face this creature being the monster that I was? I took her father from her without a trace of thought, using my anger and vengeance as a guise for the demon that I am.

She lowered herself to the ground beside me as I looked up to meet her steady gaze. She wasn't running, wasn't fleeing from the devil. Instead she decided to stay and entertain a son of Lucifer, effectively laying her life in my hands. So we sat and waited, though for what, I was not sure.

Her thoughts remained simple as she began to plan her next move. She sized me up to see if her brother's old clothes would fit to replace the tattered rags that hung haphazardly from my body. She tried to decide if a trip to the river or a warm basin would make me feel more comfortable while cleansing the dirt from my skin. What she didn't know was that I could already feel the shift in the atmosphere. I knew that if we continued to sit here she would interpret the impending rain as a sign from the heavens. She would think of the cascading drops as gifts used to cleanse my body, just as her mercy would inevitably cleanse my soul. I didn't have the heart to deny her this.

I couldn't tell her that my soul no longer existed, that a wicked monster had consumed me and drowned my humanity in the red crimson of my sins… That I was destined to walk this earth for eternity bearing the mark of the devil, while innocence such as hers was destined to be shared for a short time. Comparing her life to a single ray of sun warming the ground and creating life, her brightness would light the path for many, but time would take its course and diminish her flame, until the evening stars began to fight for her favor as darkness overtook the sun and extinguished her luminescence.

A solitary drop fell from the damp gray sky, landing against the plane of my cheek. It slowly took the trail of a tear as the cavity within my chest opened simultaneously with the skies. The soft gasp beside me was accompanied by the thoughts I predicated as the rain began to rinse the grime from my body.

Sobs wracked through me as guilt and loathing overtook me. The feel of the moisture against my skin was my undoing as warm hands laid to rest against my forearm. I refused to allow my eyes to connect with the green spheres attempting to glimpse within my soul. Her head cocked to an odd angle as she peered at the pain laid bare upon my face.

The slight shivering of her body caught my attention as I noticed the blue hue creeping against her lips; she was cold.

_What kind of a creature lets his salvation sit in the cold rain simply for his own comfort_?

_A monster._

The demon suddenly took notice of her slow pulse as his talons tore and rattled against the bars of his prison. His confinement held strong, but his shrill cry of anger nearly ripped through to my own chest. Ignoring its desperate pleas, I focused my attention solely on the chattering teeth of my unlikely companion.

Forgetting to match my pace to that of a human, I moved quickly, gripping her tiny form to my hard chest before seeking shelter. I heard her thoughts as she noted my cool hard skin and the speed at which I was carrying her. These details did not frighten her, instead they simply added to the mystery that she was cradled to.

Her mind quieted as she relinquished her thoughts to enjoy the serenity of the moment. The feel of the rain against her skin, the security of strong arms wrapped protectively around her body.

Moisture intensified her scent and her close proximity already had me battling the precarious hold I had over my senses. Without taking a single breath I ran, clutching her against my chest until we were back to her little shack in the middle of the woods.

Pushing the door aside with my foot, I carried her into the building as a fireplace against the far wall caught my attention. Making sure to place her gently against the ground, I released her to change out of her damp clothes. Making my way to a dwindling stack of wood, I began to effortlessly create flames for her to warm her skin. The bright colors danced before my eyes as I stared at my only salvation. The flames would be able to warm her cold body, but their heat could not touch my soul.

A fleeting thought of dancing with the flames caused a deep depression to set within my chest. Not for the loss of my existence, but for the pain that it would cause my family. Carlisle and Esme deserved something. As she sat warming herself and thanking the heavens for their gifts to my soul, I quietly withdrew from the room and made my way back out to nature.

Being too small and frail, she had been unable to attend to her father's body the way that he deserved. It still lay beside the door, the mud pooling against the wrinkling flesh. Slowly, I retrieved his body and made my way to the graves that I knew lay to the rear of the house.

Dismissing the use of tools, I sunk my hands into the earth with as much force and precision as my teeth had sliced through the flesh of my past. With each handful of dirt excavated, a silent prayer was said. No longer did I pray for myself, instead the prayers named my victims. Pulling their faces from the vestiges of my mind, I began to list them by name.

Not wanting to taint the ground with their horrid memories, I skipped the evil monsters from the days before my sanity escaped me. Instead, I recalled the innocent faces of their victims, the people that I originally set out to save. Only now did I realize that to trying to save them was futile, much like myself, they were already dead.

When the hole was deep enough, I slowly lowered the body in. Treating this corpse with the dignity and fragility that one would a newborn child, carefully laying the man against the freshly dug soil.

The need for self redemption overtook my senses as I bent in penance inside the shallow grave. A flash of purple caught my eye as I looked up to see a sprig of Hyssop swaying in the afternoon breeze, the irony of its meaning not escaping me. Even in death this man was attempting to ward off the evil spirits from his beloved family. Without taking a moment of thought, I gently removed a sprig and placed the plant against the man's chest.

"May this better protect you in the afterlife than it did in my world. For your forgiveness and your family, I will forever be in your debt. You now have the devil's child on his knees."

I stepped out of his grave to let the blessings of the sky wash away any taint left behind as I began to replace each grain of sand with my bare hands. The rain turned the dirt into mud as it sloshed back into the grave until the man was no more than a mound of earth. Refusing to leave the site bare, I retrieved a fallen log from the trees and carved a single word into the bark; _metanoia_.

Giving one final inspection, I left that spot in the woods and began to wander into the fading colors of twilight. Just like my soul, the world was at odds, the colors and purity of the day mingling with the bleak, lonesome darkness of the evening. Neither winning over the other, instead agreeing to a waning truce. A truce neither side ever planned on keeping, knowing the natural course of nature would take over and force the world to be covered in a blanket of black.

There was only one difference, my battle was not against light and darkness, instead it was to what degree of darkness that I would allow to reside within me. I would never escape the bleak existence that I was forced to live. My soul would remain tarnished and black no matter how many holes were punched into my armor, the light would never again shine within me.

I continued to walk, stopping only to feast upon any woodland creature that was unlucky enough to cross my path. My nose crinkled at the smell, but my gut never refused a meal. The owner of the blood did not matter to my being, merrily to my senses. With every drop of animal blood, the demon began to quiet, as if his strength depended solely on my thirst for the blood of humans.

Embracing the isolation of the forest, I fed off the bounty of nature. The warm liquid would soothe my thirst, yet my body would still crave more. Just as I could not repress the memories of my actions, the taste of the sweet copper nectar still sat upon my tongue. The feeling intensified as their life coated my throat and my teeth sank further into their pliable flesh. The screams as their impending deaths consumed them cast them back into the shadows that were once their security. My mind had become an eternal playground of guilt and loathsome hatred.

Lost in turmoil, my body carried me through the scenery. It wasn't until I was standing in view of a familiar building that I realized where I had gone. Spread out before me was the familiar brick house that I fled from all those years ago, and nothing had changed. Not the inviting blue door or the pair of caramel eyes staring at me from the doorway.

The joy emanating from his thoughts caused me to cringe. I did not deserve his love or his warmth; I was unworthy of anything except hatred and contempt. Opening my mouth to tell him to hate me, I was bombarded by the thoughts of love emanating from Esme's mind. She truly thought of me as her child. She would always believe that there was still good within my soul.

How could I share my darkest secrets with the only two people that cared for my existence? Would the knowledge of my deeds simply dirty their minds, or would the truth behind my demons clear them of their obligations to me?

What would I do without them, where would I go?

I could wander the world for the rest of eternity, forever repenting for my sins. That would be the selfless decision to make, but I had embraced another demon.

I needed them, for no other reason than my own salvation.

I chose, in that moment, to never speak of my sins with anyone. My mind would be the only one haunted by my deplorable actions.

Embracing my parents, I accepted their love. Even while their cool arms and loving thoughts engulfed me, I knew that I would forever be damned to walk the Earth isolated and alone.

**A/N **_**Metanoia - repentance, the process of experiencing a psychotic "break down" and subsequent, positive psychological re-building or "healing"**_

_**The Hyssop plant - The Hyssopos of Dioscorides was named from azob (a holy herb), because it was used for cleaning sacred places. It is alluded to in the Scriptures: 'Purge me with Hyssop, and I shall be clean.'**_

_**Thank you for taking this journey with me, please take a moment and leave me your thoughts. **_


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